


Evil Author Day 2021

by LittleSweetCheeks



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 5,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29313774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSweetCheeks/pseuds/LittleSweetCheeks
Summary: Ficlets, drabbles, parts of ideas, and so on.
Comments: 121
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No promises that any of these will ever be something.

He lies about how he gets the job, says it was because of class work which is about forty-seven percent true. He was a stellar student, had pushed Doctor McCord during every lecture and had loved the look she’d gotten in her eyes when he’d done so, but that wasn’t the whole story.

Coursework had caught her eye, but it was one event, one evening, that had solidified him as the only man she felt she could ever trust with her secrets.


	2. Chapter 2

“Don’t leave.” Those two words had been preceded by a gasp that had made his own breath catch. “…I don’t want to be alone.”

The room was dim; he was hovering near the door. He lacked first-hand experience about what was coming next, but he’d seen enough TV to suspect what it might look like and he’s man enough to know he’s not ready to learn how accurate TV is just yet… Even if he’s not man enough to say it.

Slipping into the painfully bright hall, he zeroed in on a familiar nurse. “I need you to explain to me in gruesome detail what’s about to be done. As fast as you can.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Nothing looks broken… God, Frank… she looks Jason’s age. What’s- what’s a kid doing in here?”

“I don’t know, Ma’am.” The girl coughed and then groaned, giving Frank hope that he wouldn’t have to deal with his charge watching the girl die. At least not right away.

“Shh, Sweetie, it’s okay. Help is on the way, just lay still.” Elizabeth did her best to comfort the girl and keep her calm. “The building had an explosion and some debris landed on you, so you need checked out, but you’re going to be fine.”

The girl stared up at her, confused and looking on the edge of panic. “Who are you?” Her wide brown eyes looked between the two people standing over her. “How’d I get here?”

“We- we don’t know.”

“Ambulance is here.” Frank shared what’d been said over the comms. “Ma’am, I really do need to get you out of here as fast as possible.” He reached for Elizabeth’s arm.

“I still need to find-”

“Search and rescue will handle it, Ma’am. I need you to get away from here before the building decides to collapse. Rescue is on their way in for the girl, we’ll get her out.”


	4. Chapter 4

"I told Blake you would be late in this morning. He texted your phone about forty-five minutes ago.”

Nadine looked for a clock. “He must’ve been running behind.”

“Wait, what? What time do the two of you get up?”

“It’s no big deal, Ma’am. What did the message say?”

“Oh! Um… something about confirming two senators and then agreeing to take a luncheon tomorrow if you will babysit today at lunch.”

Nadine did her best to remember the midnight email and then nodded. “Okay.”

“Nadine?’

“Yes?”

“Who will you babysit?”

“It’s nothing.” There was no way she could admit that Blake was referring to babysitting _her_.


	5. Chapter 5

It was becoming a worrying pattern. On his days home from the campaign, Blake would take Kaleb as much as he could. As the baby got bigger, it got easier for him to be away from Stevie. But almost immediately after Blake picked him up each time, Trevor would come up with excuses why he had to be away. He wanted to be upset that his boyfriend couldn’t just accept Kaleb’s presence, but also understood that as far as Trevor knew, this was just Stevie’s son.

“You know.” Trevor stared one day while Blake was trying to spoon feed Kaleb lunch. “This whole baby thing… It’s weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“You barely wanted me to move in with you, when I mentioned getting married, you freaked out, but here you are practically co-parenting someone else’s kid.” He huffed. “You won’t make a commitment to me, won’t talk about having a family with me, but… this? If I didn’t know better I’d be starting to wonder if Kaleb wasn’t your kid.”

Blake froze, afraid to look up.

“Blake?” Trevor was looking between him and the baby. “Or is that the whole problem here?” His hand came up, finger pointing. “Is… is Kaleb your kid?”

“Trevor, it’s… It’s not what you think…”

“It’s not? Because what I’m starting to think is you’ve been two-timing me and I’m only just realizing it.”

“We’re not together.”

“But you were.”

“No… Not really.”

“Not _really_? There’s a _baby_ , Blake! How is that _not really_?”

“It was right when you and I were starting to get back together last year. It was only a few times and then I left and ended it with her and that was that… Until I found out she was carrying my baby last winter.”

“So, who knows? Does the whole federal government know I’m just a joke here?”

“Only Stevie and I know the truth. No one can ever know.”

Trevor stared at him. “Kaleb… it was right there in front of me and I didn’t even see it.” He scoffed. “She gave him her last name to keep your secret, but she gave him your first name instead.”

“Yeah.”

“This is- this is messed up. I’m not sure I can keep doing this.”

“I can never be with her, Trevor. Even if you walked away now, there’d be no Stevie and I. She was never an option for me.”

“But you could sleep with her.”


	6. Chapter 6

He passes the bathroom first as he steps into the short hall, glancing in just in case. There are signs of someone getting ready for the day- a damp towel hanging primly, the fading hint of moisture in the air, makeup and hair product scattered across the counter, traces of familiar, high-end, perfume lingering. On the floor before the counter is a stack of two neatly folded towels, his lips twitch as he thinks he can make out the indentation of footprints. A makeshift step.

The bathroom, however, is empty.

Another step and the foot of the bed comes into view, his line of vision spreading in wedges as he passes the corner. A black blazer, still on its hanger, is laid out over the decorative fabric strip, leave it to her to keep even that tidy, and a pair of familiar shoes wait expectantly beneath.

Near the windows, the desk is stacked with files, a mobile version of a desk back in DC. They all travel with their ongoing work; normal life does not stop for travel. The desk is covered in more than just files, however, and the sight of what looks like the entire contents of the massive bag she carries at all times dumped out makes his heart speed up.

It’s not her style to make such a mess.

He calls out for her again.

Another step and a sound hits his ears as his eyes tell him he’s seeing something he just can’t believe.

The armchair is near the bed and he surmises she was using it to ready for the day, but now she’s slumped, wheezing worryingly, eyes closed.


	7. Chapter 7

The doctor took that moment to approach the group. She smiled at them. “I’d been following the Kasimov situation, so I’m somewhat familiar with what’s happening to your friend. Based on other reports, my best guess is she has no memory of prior to this age and she likely won’t have any memory once she returns to her correct age. Something to keep in mind? She’s likely going to have all the normal moods and impulse control of a girl her age, so whatever person you knew her as as an adult, that person is temporarily gone. I would advise anyone who thinks they’re going to be her white knight and keep an eye on her should weigh if they can handle a moody, hormonal teenager who is also now confused and scared.”

The whole staff turned and stared at Elizabeth. “I guess that leaves me then. I already have three of those at home.”

=

She pulled open a drawer, thankful to find it full of pants and not something else. “Here. Jeans, yoga pants even. See if they fit and I’ll keep looking for some shirts.” She eyed her. “I think you’re about your full height already.”

“Figures…” She took the top pair of black jeans and pulled them on under the dress.

“Not your full weight though.” The jeans weren’t as fitted as she remembered them being. “They’ll do.” The next drawer was t-shirts that looked well worn. “Here, shirts. Pick a couple.”

She started digging through before shrieking in elation. “I remember this shirt! I can’t believe I still have it! I got this last summer!” She held it against her body. “My boyfriend took me to the concert.”

“Your boyfriend took you?”

“Yeah. It was tons of fun.” She tugged the dress off finally, pulling the bra she’d been wearing off as well before pulling the shirt on. “It’s so soft!”

She gave her a questioning look. “I’ll find you a better bra.”

“Oh, I don’t wear those.”

“You…don’t?”

She scoffed. “Not like I need it. And they’re just created by men to force us to be feminine. They shouldn’t be mandatory. I don’t see men being force to wear jock straps all the time… Unless they are now?” She arched one brow at her.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “Think you can pick out a few more outfits from here and shoes and things? The Secretary said she could take you shopping later.”

“You don’t call her by her name? Why?”

“I- Respect?” She glanced to the door, to freedom. “I’ll leave you to finish up.” Rushing back to the living room, she smirked. “Good luck with that one.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Please tell her she’s sick and insane.”

Nadine shot him a look at his snark, but crossed quickly to Elizabeth’s side. “Ma’am?”

“I’m fine, Nadine. I told Blake I was fine.” The coughs, when they came, were deep and wet sounding. “I was just about to get changed.”

She looked to Blake again. “Henry?”

“Zurich.”

“Great.”

“And Stevie is in Florida with a friend.”

“Of course.”

“I’m not skipping the dinner and I’m sitting right here, so please stop having a conversation like I’m not.”

“Ma’am… You have no business going in this state.”

“I’m f-” The coughing started again.

“Blake…” Nadine considered a course of action. “Pour a scotch, please?” She watched his brows shoot up, but her only response was to wave her left hand in the direction of the table.


	9. Chapter 9

“Aw, man!”

His childish whine amused her more than anything. She started walking across the courtyard. “I’m sorry, you’re needed back upstairs.”

“But! League season is starting soon!”

“I know.” She put her hand out, accepting is mitt and the ball. “You go up, I’ll make sure Jay gets his practice in.” When he grumbled again, she chuckled, patting his back as he shuffled away. “We can find time later if you want.” When he turned back, she eyed him with amusement as she pulled the baseball cap she’d pulled for her drawer down on her head.

=

“A bit wide there, Jay. You can do better than that.”

Jay laughed. “You are such a sports mom, you know that?”

“I just want my boys to be the best you can be.” She threw the ball back, a bit harder than before.

He made a mock yelp. “Hey! No fastballs!”

“I’ll show you a fastball.”

He nodded. “I’m sure you would."


	10. Chapter 10

“She’s okay.” It was his opinion that she’d never be okay again. “I’m sorry, Man, it’s just… it’s an ongoing situation and I’d rather not discuss it.”

“I get it.”

 _No,_ Jay thought to himself, _you don’t._

=

_Ambassador Ontoosi carried on sipping his coffee, but Jay’s attention wasn’t on him at all. They had these meetings now, every last one of them, in the conference room. Always in the conference room. Never, ever, in the Secretary’s office._

_And this was why._

_“Ma’am?” Jay leaned forward in his seat, hoping to catch her eye. She’d gone quiet and he didn’t doubt that to the Ambassador it appeared as if she were simply thinking. But he knew that distant look._

_Her chest moved as her breath hitched._

_His heartrate sped up._

_Jay checked his watch. Thirty seconds. Thirty seconds and either Blake or Nadine would enter those doors, a pre-scheduled interruption. He just had to keep things moving for another thirty seconds._

_“Ambassador? What are your thoughts on changes we should be making in the area?” He drew the man’s attention to himself. Away from the Secretary._

_He watched as her hands began to shake._

_=_

_Nadine was seated on the floor, somewhat uncomfortably judging by the look on her face, with the Secretary gasping against her. “It’s as far as we managed to get.”_

_“Pills?”_

_“Top drawer on the right.”_

_He left them both there and fetched pills and water. It was better to simply handle this where she was and then move her after._

_“Any ideas on this one?”_

_Jay shook his head._

_“Is it just me or is it getting worse?”_


	11. Chapter 11

Instead of offering a hand to shake, she reaches for the offending box. “I’ll carry that for you.”

“It’s- it’s- that’s okay. It’s really heavy… Books.”

One carefully manicured brow begins to slide up, but she leaves him to fumble, turning and leading him down a short hall and then turning again into a large outer office. “How long have you worked as a personal assistant?”

He suspects she already knows that answer. He’s already been vetted by possibly every alphabet agency in DC, not to mention his boss was CIA. “I- I haven’t… Ma’am.”

She casts a glance over her shoulder, her gate shifting almost amusedly as a smile tugs at her lips. “That’ll do.” He has no idea what she means by that, but then she carries on. “How long have you known Secretary McCord?”

It takes a beat to remember that Secretary McCord means _Professor_ McCord. “Three- three years… Ma’am.”

Another glance and he’s almost willing to swear there’s a spring in her step now. Her hand drops to the surface of an empty desk facing the opposite direction to everything else in the room. “This is you. Leave your things and we’ll do the short tour; you’ll have to get the lay of everything else on your own.”

“Of- of course, Ma’am.”

She’s eight strides away before he realizes she’s on the move again before he can finish putting his things down and he has to run, tripping over his own feet, to catch up. “I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

=

“My door… my couch… they’re always open. Whether it’s frustration, anger, or… exhaustion, that brings you here. Everyone has slept there at one time or another. Not always at night.”

He eyes it. He doubts the whole thing is five feet long. Perfectly sized for her, not so much for someone like himself.

She seems to read his mind and chuckles. “One day… one day you will be tired enough to sleep there. Trust me. If I’m not here, there’s a blanket and pillow in the bottom drawer.”

=

He backs out of the room, looking at the name plate on the wall beside the door.

_Nadine Tolliver, Chief of Staff._

Blinking a beat, he glances back in.

“It’s good to meet you. Ma’am.”


	12. Chapter 12

Even now, as he’s watching a fresh disaster, this time of his own making, he still can’t believe those words ever came out of his mouth seventeen short months ago.

Not that he was counting.

Every meal… every speech… Every step on or off a bus… on or off a stage… His hand in hers because she deserved to not feel alone, she deserved to feel supported. Her faith in herself had been shaken when he’d spoken those words and he’d nearly killed himself making sure it didn’t crumble completely. He’d carried the burden of making sure she had someone at her side whenever she looked up.

But today…

There were only two months left. Crunch time. Henry had been calling him for days because Blake had caught on quick that every conversation between now-nearly-ex husband and wife ended angry, hateful, and tear-filled. He’d blocked Henry’s number from Elizabeth’s phone, forcing Henry to call his instead. He forced all conversations to be made in his presence where he could intervene and mitigate disasters.

He’d turned his back, missed the end of her speech and her approach to the rickety stairs with no rail. The Secret Service agents didn’t seem to notice his missing presence, didn’t step in to take his place. It was only seconds ago now, but to his mind it felt like hours.

A scream and his head snapped around; Henry already forgotten. An almighty crack of wood and then… chaos.

One moment she’d been in his line of sight at the stage edge and then… gone.

His fault.

He hadn’t been there.

Seventeen months, seventy-four weeks, five hundred and sixteen days… over five thousand nine hundred hours. And he had another two months, eight weeks, sixty days, too many hours, left to go.

And that was assuming she _didn’t_ win.

He didn’t plan on making this mistake twice.


	13. Chapter 13

Somewhere at a mixer for assistants in DC years ago, he’d found himself in conversation with a certain subset of assistants- ones who shadowed women. As that conversation had carried on, he’d worked out that it was a subset even within that group, they were assistants to what the world viewed as beautiful women.

He’d thought it was mostly in jest the way the others talked about having to keep eyes out for unwanted advances, for leers and inappropriate comments. Of the dozen or so assistants in the group, more than half admitted to having intervened on at least one occasion to prevent some physical act… Two grew quiet and hinted at having had to handle something much worse.

He wondered now how many ever physically stormed a room and removed a man from their boss.

He feared the answer wasn’t zero.

The mixers always reminded him that they were the keepers of a lot in the world, the runners and doers who made sure their bosses always looked and felt their best. He had an important role to fill. The mixers reminded him that he was responsible for more than just her professional wellbeing.


	14. Chapter 14

When he met Nadine Tolliver, he considered her the strongest, toughest, most confident, person he’d ever known. He’d learned better since then. He’s discovered the side of her that isn’t as confident, isn’t as strong, isn’t as tough.

Pulling the collection of keycards from his pocket, he thumbs through until he finds the one for her room, replacing the rest along with his phone. There’s a deep breath, his hands are shaking, before the card slips into the lock, light flashing green before he turns the handle.

This is different. This is one of those things that isn’t a part of his ever-expanding job until it is. He’s wandered in and out of the Secretary’s hotel room so many times with her in various states of readiness that it doesn’t even phase him.

But this isn’t that.

His job is this…

He’s never been more hopeful that he’s about to be fired.


	15. Chapter 15

“Minister Chen requested to be added to your schedule today, Ma’am. I fit him in just after lunch.” Blake shared as he walked by her side into the office.

“Did he say why? I didn’t even know he was in town.” Elizabeth shed her coat, dumping it on the couch as she headed for the desk. The foreign minister rarely was in DC and even more rarely sought her out.

“He did not. I assumed you knew.” He frowned at the coat before gathering it up and taking it to the closet. “He sounded upset?” He arched a brow at her in question.

“I haven’t done anything lately.” She tossed her hand up defensively, making him chuckle. It was a reasonable assumption, though. Most of his contact was after some provocation she’d instigated.

=

Minister Chen surprised her by taking a seat on the sofa instead of near the desk, placing a folder he was carrying on the cushion beside him. “I must confess, the reason I came to see you is that I was made aware of an issue and I was hoping you would be able to help find a solution.” He frowned. “It’s not really… official.”

Her brows rose as she pulled a chair over and took a seat across from him. “Is everything okay, Ming?”

He pressed his lips together. “Occasionally, my daughter and I gather toys and deliver them to orphanages. There’s… I love my country, but I can admit, we seem to fail our youngest and most dependent citizens at times. And the US does assist with that problem through families adopting.”

“Okay. What does that have to do with me?”

“One orphanage I recently dropped items off to, and you have to understand, it’s frowned upon for me to bring something like this to light, but… it was one of the private facilities that take in children with complex medical needs. My government doesn’t like to admit that it happens, but families want healthy children and so the ones who are not often get cast aside.” He finally handed over the thin file. “There is a child, she is three years old. When I saw her, I couldn’t help but fear that she will have no life. Her name is Mei and I… I inquired more closely as to why she hasn’t seemed to have any care yet. It turns out her family kept her shuttered away, so no one knew she even existed, but then the mother had another child and opted to finally surrender Mei.”

Gingerly, Elizabeth opened the cover of the folder in her lap. There were only a few sheets of information, but clipped to the first page was a photo of a little girl with beautiful dark eyes and what looked like it would have been a bright smile on her face if it weren’t for the massive hole, the cleft, that seemed to overwhelm her entire face. It made her heart clench. “This is…” She wasn’t even sure how to start. “She’s…”

“Happy. Despite her issues.” He finished for her. “She struggles to eat but loves to explore new flavors. According to the caretakers, cognitively, she’s on par with other children in the three your old group she lives with. I did my own research and she’ll need several extensive surgeries. The bone appears to be all there, it’s simply turned in, essentially dividing the front of her skull into two. But I don’t see anyone ever seeing her and wanting to give her a home. And, as much as I hate to say it…” He drew a breath. “Her best chance just might be getting adopted by a family here.”

“I feel for her, I really do, Ming. But I’m not sure what I can do to help her.”

“My hands are tied as well. The organization that is caring for her, they assist with certain adoption costs, but obviously not everything. Their assistance is based on each child’s needs. Perhaps there could be a pathway to decrease the burden even further on your end?”

“I- I don’t know what good it would do. Even if I figured out a way to help offset adoption costs, that family’s still looking at what? Hundreds of thousands in medical costs?”

“I understand.” He looked away. “I thought it was worth a try. For her.” He stood to leave.

“Wait. Ming. Can I hold onto this?” Elizabeth held up the folder.

“Of course.”

She stood as well. “Let me get my staff into it. Maybe there’s something a private group can do to help the process. We could try and get her story into their hands.”

“That would be most appreciated.” Chen turned and left.


	16. Chapter 16

Elizabeth woke up exhausted. It felt as if she’d pulled an all-nighter or two, her head thick with too little sleep. Reaching out one hand, she reached for Henry, but didn’t find him beside her. It was odd, but not unheard of. Occasionally he was up before she was, though usually she woke as he got out of bed.

Doing a personal assessment, Elizabeth realized she was flat on her stomach, not a position she usually slept in, and buried down off the pillows and under the blankets, odd for her as she tended to kick everything off in her sleep. Normally she got too hot to sleep under very many blankets and never buried over her head. Pulling the covers off her head, Elizabeth tried to get her bearings in the darkness. That is was still dark was the first thing she didn’t understand, but a glance at the clock told her it was barely four thirty.

“What am I doing up this early?” She frowned. Her voice felt, sounded, off. “Great, I’m getting sick.”

Rolling to her side, she pulled her knees nearly to her chest, a position she laid in often, but at about the halfway point pain like red-hot pokers seared her hips, radiating up her spine and down her legs. She hissed, willing it to stop, but her muscles seemed to get on board and began hurting too. Her entire body tensed up and wouldn’t relax. Moving hurt, not moving hurt. She wanted to cry already and she’d been awake all of two minutes.

“Henry?”

There was no answer.

Carefully, she pushed herself up on one wobbling arm, trying to figure out where her husband had gone. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she looked, finally, around the room. It was all wrong. The windows were in the wrong place, the décor was wrong… Throwing the covers out of the way, Elizabeth made her way out of the bed, crying out for a moment at the way her body objected to being moved. Everything was tensed and stopping her from moving freely and she didn’t understand why.

Limping, she slowly rounded the bed, peaking through one door, _living room_ , and then another, _bathroom_.

Nothing made sense. Not the hour, not the bizarre place she was in, not the way she had to fight through pain to move. Locking the bathroom door just to be safe, Elizabeth let out a breath and allowed herself to relax a moment. Her muscles relaxed the slightest bit, allowing her to stand upright.

Flipping on the bathroom light, she studied the room. For the most part it was nothing fancy, save for the very expensive looking jetted tub. There was a shower with an almost hedonistic amount of shower heads and a bench seat that left her envious. She didn’t miss the grab rails mounted both in the shower and by the tub. With the amount of pain she was in, she had a feeling she’d be thankful for them.

Heading first for the toilet, she looked down at her pajamas and frowned. She couldn’t remember owning anything like these before. She always ran warm, even in the winter and never wore anything heavier than thin pajamas. These were thick and heavy, appropriate for northern winters. As she stared, she realized something else was off about them. The fit was all wrong. The top was much looser than she was used to, normally to get the bottom of a set to fit around her waist, it meant the top was tight. This one was positively swimming on her.

=

Elizabeth was still dressed in pajamas and now a heavy afghan from the bed to try and keep warm. She so very rarely felt the cold, even when she and Henry were on the farm, so this bone-deep chill had her shivering, teeth nearly chattering. Limping painfully, she found the kitchen and looked for coffee only to realize after several minutes of searching that there was nothing for coffee anywhere. “How does someone not have coffee in the house?” All she could find was tea.

=

Under the various sprays, Elizabeth studied the options of soap and conditioner sitting on the ledges, the labels of which made her jaw drop. None of them were grocery store products. Once she was wet, she started working shampoo into her hair, feeling acutely the way her body seemed to object to the ways she shifted on the slick floor, the way she felt unsteady as she tried to get clean.

Finally accepting that she needed a break from the constant ache, Elizabeth sat on the bench to rinse her hair and wash everywhere else, doing her best not to think to hard about how odd it felt to look down and see herself as nearly flat-chested, to see scars where she’d never seen scars before.

Stepping out and finding a towel, Elizabeth sat on the stool that was in the bathroom to dry off, taking a harder look as she did. Just behind either hip join were old scars, long and curved, there were also small scars around one knee and more on the same ankle. Standing again, she noticed a full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door and took slow turn, observing with a sort of detachment this thing that was so unfamiliar to her. There were similar tiny white spots along one part of the spine and then on the back of her shoulder.


	17. Chapter 17

"Mom?" Alison took a seat on the bench in the bedroom. "Where's Nadine?"

"Out somewhere. She'll be back in about an hour. Why?"

"I wanted to talk to you about her."

The worried tone surprised Elizabeth. Of all three kids, Alison was the closest to Nadine and had taken the fastest to her being around. She tried not to think too hard about the fact it could be because Ali often felt overlooked as the middle child. "What's up?"

Alison ducked her head. "I don't want her to hate me." She sighed. "I think Nadine starves herself." She brought her head up slowly. "I- I learned about it at school when this girl Becca started not eating and acting kinda weird. I just... she skips a lot of meals and sometimes I don't see her eat all day when we're working on my designs together."

"Noodle... I don't think there's anything to worry about."

"Mom. Watch her for a week and see- she either says she already ate or will grab something on the go and when she does eat here? She pushes it around and then throws it away. I think you need to talk to her." She frowned. "I don't ant something happening to her."


	18. Chapter 18

Matt and Jay are left standing shoulder to shoulder with Daisy in front of them. They’re collectively watching their bosses angrily strutting away. They’d screwed up, the three of them, and they all had the feeling that that verbal lashing was only the first of many.

“I thought Nadine was going to kill us.” Jay admits once they’re out of sight.

Matt attempts some humor to ease their collective tension. “Think it’d only make things worse if they knew they reminded us of Thelma and Louise. Sticking together, ya know?”

Daisy scoffs. “Thelma and Louise? Try Velma and Roxie.” She turns so she’s facing the pair of them.

Jay looks contemplative. “Huh. That does work better.”

“How do you mean?” Matt’s confusion is clear.

She rolls her eyes at him. Leave it to him to not get the reference on one of the most popular shows of all time. She moves her finger, indicating the three of them. “They’re going to kill us. Dead. Not themselves.”

Jay chuckles. “And we have it commin’.”


End file.
